CHAPTER SIX
Men in black suits piled through the door right as a pillow hit Logan in the face. The security Elle had mentioned hit first and asked questions later. With a whoosh of air leaving his lungs, Logan was brought to the ground.
“Do you know how much time and money you've wasted? And now my site manager is fighting for his life. Tell me this, are you working with them? Are you trying to ruin me and this project?”
From his place on the floor, Logan looked up to see Bree standing on the bed and trying to leap down while Elle worked hard to get her to sit back down.
“What’s going on here?” Bree whipped around too fast and turned white. She saw the woman standing at the door just before she lost her balance. A scream lodged in her throat as Elle grabbed for her.
Logan saw Bree’s arm pinwheel as she fell backward off the bed. He pushed off the stunned security guards staring at her bare bottom as Elle grabbed the front of the hospital gown to try to save her from falling. The gown didn’t have a chance. The flimsy ties broke and a naked Bree fell right into Logan’s outstretched arms.
“Oh, I need to try that next time I’m in the hospital. Who can ask for more than to be naked in a hot guy’s arms? Well, I guess it could be better if he were naked, too.”
Logan tore his eyes away from Bree’s perfect breasts and saw an old woman with a walker that read
I like men the way I like pictures . . . well hung
standing by the door with a smile on her face. Maybe he needed to see a doctor; this couldn’t be real. But then the woman who looked like an older version of Elle and Bree rushed inside the room along with a younger version of herself and two men.
“Oh jeez. I can’t un-see that,” one of the men said as he covered his eyes.
“It’s okay, Drake. I got this,” the other man said with anger radiating off him. “Put my sister down this moment. Whoever you are, you have a lot of explaining to do.”
Bree had closed her eyes, hoping the fall from the bed wouldn’t hurt too badly but landing naked in Logan Ward’s arms was even worse. Why couldn’t the floor have opened up and swallowed her instead? Those strong arms she remembered carrying her through the fire had reached out and caught her. He instinctively pulled her into him as he cradled her naked body against his hard chest.
She’d meant to read him the riot act, exposed or not, but then she’d looked up into a set of very appreciative slate-blue eyes scanning her body. The desire she saw there took her breath away. Whatever kind of moment they had was ruined as soon as she heard Shirley, followed by the fact her soon-to-be brother-in-law had just seen a whole lot of her bare butt. However, that was nothing compared to her
brother
now trying to rip her out of Logan’s arms. She was entangled in a game of naked tug-of-war with a roomful of people watching.
“Put her down!”
“I will not!”
“She’s my sister and I’ll kill you if that finger moves one inch closer to her breast.”
“Oh for the love of Pete. Reid, cover your sister with a blanket. You, whoever you are, put my daughter down right this instant.” Her mother clapped her hands and suddenly the room bounded into action. A blanket appeared and Logan set her down on the bed before security rushed to grab him again.
“That’s enough,” Margaret said with a wave of her hand. The guards backed down but didn’t leave the room. “Now, would someone tell me what is going on?”
“He’s Logan Ward.”
“She’s B. Simpson.”
“He saved her.”
Bree, Logan, and Elle all said at the same time.
“Oh, I think I broke a hip. Help, help, I need saving,” Shirley said with a wink toward Logan.
Bree shook her head and enjoyed Logan’s unease under Shirley’s roaming eyes. “He’s the architect who’s been delaying my build. I think he’s colluding with another builder to delay the construction and ruin the build in order to get me fired.”
“I thought the architect was British,” Allegra said as she looked Logan over.
Bree nodded her agreement. She thought he was, too.
“I’m from Charleston, South Carolina. I went to school in London for architecture and was picked up immediately upon graduation by the Clarke Group. And I’m not the one delaying the project. You are. It’s exactly as I suspected. Some rich heiress wants to play designer and you can’t make up your mind!”
Bree, along with everyone else in the room, sucked in some air at the insult. Bree felt her face turn red and she tried to launch herself at Logan again, but Reid pushed her back into bed. “Stay!” he ordered.
Allegra stomped across the room in her nude designer heels and beautiful green dress. In a move faster than Bree could blink, she smashed her perfectly manicured fist into Logan’s handsome face.
“Allegra Simpson!” Margaret yelled.
“Yes, Mother?” Allegra asked sweetly as she shook her hand.
“Where did you learn that?” Margaret asked, completely ignoring Logan’s look of shock at having received a split lip at the hands of one of the sweetest Southern belles you’d ever meet.
“Finn taught me. He didn’t like me to be in all those warehouse districts alone,” Allegra shrugged.
“I knew I liked that boy,” Margaret smiled. “Now, I think it’s time you leave, Mr. Ward. My daughter needs her rest.”
The clearing of a throat had everyone turning to the door. “I’m sorry,” the man in a cheap gray suit said with an air of pissed-off authority. “But I need to speak with Mr. Ward and Miss Simpson. I’m Detective Gruber and I have some questions for you both.”
Elle took hold of her sister’s hand and Reid stepped forward. “We aren’t going anywhere. If you want to talk to our sister, you can talk with us here.”
Bree already knew what was going to happen. It was the same as the police officer at the work site this morning. Whoever had blown up the site had the police, or at least certain officers, in their pocket. The look on Detective Gruber’s face was enough to let her know nothing was going to happen with the case. Elle and Reid just didn’t realize it yet.
“That sounds like a good idea,” Margaret said as she looked Detective Gruber over. “We’ll let you all talk while I make a phone call to Agent Wallace at the Secret Service. He’s a close friend of ours and I want him to get the Feds to look over the scene to ensure it was not an act of terrorism. Which I believe falls under federal jurisdiction, does it not?” Margaret asked sweetly as she gave Detective Gruber a slow smile before herding everyone else out the door.
Mallory's bodyguards stepped outside the door. Logan could see their wide shoulders through the small window as they took up their positions for the night.
Detective Gruber pushed his glasses up his nose. While he might have been an attractive man in his prime, now in his fifties, he looked like he lifted the more beer cans than weights. His eyes were a little too close together, giving him the overall appearance of a weasel.
“Miss Simpson, with all due respect, I’ve looked over the crime scene. It appears to be an accident.”
Logan had a hard time controlling his reaction. Accident? That wasn’t an accident. He’d seen the fire and the site of explosion—that was no accident. It was a bomb. Before he could say anything, though, Reid was already jumping in.
“Accident?” he said with surprise. “How so?”
“Looks like a generator exploded. Miss Simpson probably made them leave it on so she could have more lighting while she went inside to do whatever it was she was doing.” Turning to Bree, he smiled as if she were a child. “Your heels could have punctured something or you switched something on not realizing what it was.”
Elle opened her mouth, but Bree put a hand on her arm to quiet her down. “You’re right, Detective. You know us women. Always walking around construction sites in high heels and playing with switches. Why did I even bother getting a dual degree in engineering and chemistry? Elle, I’m sorry I wasted so much of the family’s time and money on getting my master’s in engineering as well.”
Logan rocked back on his heels and smiled. She was spunky; he’d give her that. He was also man enough to admit when he was wrong, and he was definitely wrong about the infamous "B. Simpson". As soon as this asshole left, he’d apologize for thinking she was a ditzy heiress.
“Why don’t you do me a favor, Detective? It would save us a bunch of trouble. Go back to the man who paid you to lie about this explosion and tell him I’m coming after him. If he thinks I like big hammers, wait until he sees the hammer I’m going to bring down on him. I won’t stop there, either. After he’s in jail, I’m coming after all of you he’s paid off to do his dirty work. Is it worth your pension, Detective? Your freedom?” Bree stared him down and Logan’s mind started churning. There was a lot more going on here than he thought.
“I think it’s time you leave, Detective,” Elle said, stepping forward to stand shoulder to shoulder with her brother.
Detective Gruber slammed his little notebook shut and glared. He was a bully, and he was used to people backing down. Too bad Bree wasn’t going to give in. She dealt with worse on a daily basis and she was going to get to the bottom of this, no matter what. She’d be damned if she cared who she took down along the way. Gruber must have realized it as his jaw tightened in anger. He eventually turned and walked out the door without saying a word.
“What did you mean, Bree? What haven’t you been telling me?” Elle asked the second the door closed.
Bree let out a sigh and lay back down in bed. Her head was throbbing. Her body seemed to melt into the bed and her eyes were starting to droop. “I’ve been receiving threats. They all come on green paper. First it was about the site, but then they turned into threats against me if I didn’t step down. And then construction kept being delayed because of Mr. Ward. And then things started happening at the site and this morning my car was vandalized. Then when Marcus called about the vandalizing of the construction site—” Bree choked up. “Will someone please check on Marcus?”
“I’m sure Mom will take good care of him.” Elle’s phone beeped and she read the message. “Good, Mallory is almost here. I had to pull her from a job on Hung Island.”
“Where are the notes, sis?” Reid asked.
“At the office,” Bree said tiredly.
“I’ll go get them,” Reid said before he bent over and placed a kiss on Bree’s forehead. “I love you, sis.”
“I love you, too.”
Logan watched as Reid looked torn. It was clear he didn’t want to leave but knew the faster he moved, the faster they could get the evidence and get to the bottom of this. He was interested in seeing the notes, too.
“Bree, Miss Simpson—” Logan started. He didn’t know what to call her. He hadn’t wanted to personalize her when she was B. Simpson and he thought she was a pain in his ass. But now, he knew he’d been wrong. He’d saved her, held her naked in his arms, and no matter what, he was involved in more ways than he cared to admit.
The door opened and a blonde bombshell interrupted him. She wore tight black leather pants and a blood-red, silk tank top with matching stilettos. A strand of pearls lay delicately across her throat. Big blue eyes took in every corner of the room in seconds.
“Mallory, I’m so glad you’re here,” Bree said as she yawned and held out her hand.
Mallory hurried across the room and took her hand. “Ah, Mr. Ward. Nice of you to decide to show up finally.”
“I’m at a disadvantage. You seem to know me, but I don’t know you,” Logan said. He couldn’t decide what to make of this woman who looked like the perfect lady, except for the edge that she fought to conceal beneath the pearls. Whoever she was, she was not what she appeared.
“Mallory Westin, owner of Westin Security.”
“Did the cameras pick up anything?” Bree asked as the rest of her family made their way back into the cramped room.
“There were cameras?” Elle and Logan asked at the same time.
“We installed them while Bree went to England,” Mallory told them as she pulled up a video on her tablet. “This is all we got.”
Everyone leaned forward and watched a man in black with a ski mask enter the building. He pulled out a large device and turned it on before hiding it beneath some plastic sheets. The angle changed and they watched as he snuck out the back of the site and disappeared in the night. The screen went black until images of Bree and Marcus came on. Mallory pressed pause.
“That’s it,” Mallory said as she lowered the tablet.
“No, you have more on there. I want to see it,” Bree said with a shaky voice.
“It’s nothing that will help you,” Mallory said softly.
“I don’t care. I
have
to see it,” Bree demanded.
Mallory looked at Elle who gave a silent nod in agreement. Mallory lifted the tablet and pressed Play. They watched as Bree and Marcus walked deeper into the building, then the screen went bright white and then black as the camera was taken out in the explosion. Elle gasped and Logan shot a look at Bree. She was staring at the screen in silence. The screen turned to the camera in the parking lot facing the building.
At first they couldn’t see anything because of the dust, but then flames and the chaos began to appear. Elle cried silently and Bree didn’t breathe as they watched Logan running through the crowd and ripping off his shirt before disappearing into the flames. Al was next, rushing in with a fire extinguisher as the other workers ran for more hoses. Soon Al appeared carrying Marcus and the first ambulance slid to a stop.